


And Then Some

by famousfremus



Category: Hunger Games (2012), Hunger Games Series - All Media Types, Hunger Games Trilogy - Suzanne Collins
Genre: F/M, Farewell Tour, Gluttony, Prompts in Panem, Seven Deadly Sins
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2013-09-12
Updated: 2015-10-16
Packaged: 2017-12-26 09:17:01
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 2
Words: 12,051
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/964237
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/famousfremus/pseuds/famousfremus
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>A trip to Pythons, a new themed restaurant, and a chance meeting with an old flame re-awakens Katniss' appetite for more than just food. Originally written for Prompts in Panem - Seven Deadly Sins challenge on Tumblr, and updated for Prompts in Panem Farewell Tour.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> This was written for Prompts in Panem – Seven Deadly Sins, Gluttony over on Tumblr. You should go check them all out; there’s some fantastic stuff over there!! Thank you to Mary for being the best Beta, Pookieh for pre-reading an early draft, Ro Nordmann for the amazing banner and cover art, and Lenai17 on tumblr for daring me to write this after a random post about the male version of Hooters.

 

The white stretch Hummer rolls to a stop in front of the non-descript brick building and idles by the red velvet carpet.  There were no windows, no signs or anything at all to advertise what lay behind the glass doors guarded by two large bronze snakes, coiled as if ready to strike at any moment.  The name _PYTHONS_ is written in small stylized red lettering across both doors.  This, coupled with the black leather-clad behemoth of a man waiting patiently to open the limo door, lends to the overall sense of mystery and intrigue; it’s as if we’ve stumbled into a James Bond film -or an episode of CSI at the very least.

 

At some unseen cue from our driver, the man in black moves forward with a grace belied by his size and opens the door to help us pour ourselves from the limo to wait on the red carpet. 

 

“Welcome to Pythons, Miss.”  I am shocked by his voice, deep and velvety and for some inexplicable reason reminiscent of melted chocolate.  “My name is Thresh and it is my pleasure to welcome y’all this evening.”  It might be the shots of SoCo and lime we did before leaving making me loopy, but I could swear my panties were suddenly drenched just from the silky timbre of his voice. 

 

With a smirk, as if he knew the effect his voice was having on me, Thresh gives me a wink then closes the door.  The Hummer drives off to wherever limos go while their occupants are running up huge tabs at restaurants, the purr of its engine fading as it disappears into the night. 

 

“Right this way, ladies.”  Thresh escorts us to the glass doors and holds one open for us to enter.   

 

Once inside we are greeted by yet another impossibly attractive man; this one tall with a runner’s lean body and a head full of wavy red hair.  His eyes are the bright green of clover and he’s wearing a snug black suit that fits him like a glove. 

 

“Good evenin’, ladies.  Meh name is Darius and I would like to welcome yeh t’ Pythons.”  His soft brogue gives a flirty lilt to his words, making me think of verdant hillsides dotted with white sheep and brawny young men in cable knit sweaters and snug tweed trousers.  

 

“Here at Pythons, we believe in a total sensory experience, meanin’ there’s not only a feast for yeh to eat, but t’ see, smell an’ hear as well.  Yehr encouraged t’ enjoy as much as yeh’d like however, we do ask that yeh refrain from…shall we say… _handling_ yehr Server.  Breaking this rule will result in immediate expulsion and yeh will no longer be considered a welcome guest.” 

 

 _‘What the hell is that supposed to mean?’_ I wonder to myself at Darius’ warning.  Clearly there’s more to this restaurant than meets the eye.

 

“Now ladies, without further ado, please allow me t’lead yeh to yehr table.”  Darius turns and moves towards another set of doors, gliding along the marble floor with the fluid grace of a dancer.

 

Before I can take a step, Effie grabs my arm and pulls me off to the side, away from the others.  “Listen here, Little Miss Buzz-kill, Madge told me all about you and I don’t want any of your angsty bullshit tonight.”  Her ridiculously long nails dig small half-moons into the soft flesh of my upper arm, which is locked in her iron grip.  “I have been with the same man for twenty-five years.  Do you know what that means?”  She gives me a shake to emphasize her point.  “That means I’ve had to deal with the same fumbling fuck he’s been giving me since we were in High School.  I need tonight so that I can fantasize about it forever and be able to have sex with my husband.  I. Need. Balls. In. My. Face.”  The look in her eyes is downright lethal as she shakes me once more.

 

Her outburst shocks me into speechlessness, so I just nod in response, rubbing the finger-shaped red spot on my arm.

 

We follow Darius down the hallway to yet another set of doors, this time frosted glass with the same Pythons logo etched across them.  To the left of the door is a framed photo of a man standing in a typical Superman pose – legs spread apart, chest out and hands fisted on his hips.  His bright smile looks like something out of a toothpaste commercial and he has the most stunning green eyes and tousled bronze hair ever seen on a man.  Most noticeable, though, is the fact that all he is wearing is a black mesh tank top and a pair of tiny blue booty shorts that hug him like a second skin. 

 

“Holy shit!” Johanna exclaims in surprise.  “Annie, is that Finnick?”

 

“Yes, that’s him.”  Annie nods proudly.  “He was their top Server until he was promoted to General Manager.”

 

“Is that _real_?”  There’s no need to ask Effie what she’s referring to as she hasn’t taken her eyes off the large bulge in the front of Finnick’s shorts.  His package resembles a cucumber nestled between two plump hot-house tomatoes. 

 

“Yes, it is.”  Annie blushes, but her shit-eating grin ruins the effect, making her look more like the cat who got the cream than demure.

 

“Jesus, woman!  How can you even _walk_ after that??”  Johanna’s eyes are wide, staring at Annie in rapt fascination and respect.  “That…that’s just…I can’t even!” 

 

“How is any of that even sanitary?”  Four sets of eyes swing my way, glaring at me for disturbing their reverent perusal of Finnick’s massive cock.  “I mean, think about it – hair, ball sweat and God knows what else can get all over your food.” 

 

The silence is deafening as they stare at me as if I’ve uttered the most heinous sacrilege.   Effie side-eyes me and subtly gives me the ‘I’ve got my eyes on you’ signal with her index and middle fingers. 

 

“Ahem.”  We turn towards Darius, who is waiting patiently by the open doors to precede us into the main dining room. “Right this way, ladies.”

 

It’s hard to keep up with Darius as there is a veritable feast of male flesh on display, causing us to stop and stare.   All of the waiters are dressed in the same uniform we’d seen in Finnick’s photo – tight shorts and mesh tank tops.  Each exquisite specimen more perfect than the last; you didn’t know where to look first.

 

We finally stumble to our table and settle in as Darius hands out the menus.  “Your server will be here momentarily.  Enjoy!”  With a little bow, he exits the dining room and goes back to his station by the door.

 

While the others are busy enjoying the ‘scenery’ I busy myself with reviewing the menu.  I’m starving, as usual, and right now food trumps hot guy in my book.

 

“Look at the ass on that blond!”  Johanna whispers, clearly in awe of whatever fine piece of man-flesh she’s found.  I look up from the menu and see the ass in question, two tables away from ours.  The man is standing with his back to us, bent slightly at the waist, causing his shorts to pull up and give us a peek at the firm roundness of his backside.  I have to agree – that is an ass to write sonnets about. 

 

I let my eyes wander up to his back and take in the way his blond waves curl over the nape of his neck.  The sight triggers something in the recesses of my mind and I feel a sense of déjà vu, but the moment is gone almost as quickly as it came. 

 

My gaze trails from his golden curls to his broad shoulders when I notice the tattoo on the back of his left shoulder.  It’s an image of a flower; a very distinct, very familiar flower.  The arrowhead shaped petals are drawn as if they’re dancing on the wind, and there’s what looks like a drop of rain, or maybe a tear, dangling perilously off one as if any second it will swell to the breaking point and drop to the invisible ground below.   

 

 _‘It’s a katniss flower’_ , I think to myself, _‘What the fuck?’_ Then the blond Adonis turns his head and I feel the déjà vu all over again.  I feel my stomach do a slow roll and drop to my toes as I gasp in surprise.  “No, it can’t be.” 

 

“Can’t be what?” slurs Madge from somewhere next to me.   Her bleary eyes are squinting in his direction when he turns completely and my suspicions are confirmed.  “Ohmygodkatniss.  It’s Peeta!”  She starts shouting drunkenly and waving to him.  “Hey Peeta!  Over here!”

 

I duck my head so he can’t see me as he walks over to our table with a broad smile on his ridiculously handsome face.  “Madge Undersee!  How the hell are you?” 

 

She gets up from the table and tries to give him a sloppy hug but he stops her by raising his hands.  “Sorry, Madge.  No touching allowed.” 

 

Madge gives him a big drunken smile.  “Peeta fucking Mellark.  God, it’s been YEARS!”  She turns almost knocking herself down in the process, and introduces him to the rest of the table.  “Hey everyone, this is Peeta.  Peeta, this is Johanna, my Aunt Effie, and I think you already know Annie.  Oh, and of course you remember Katniss.”  This last bit is said in an annoying sing-song voice that wouldn’t be out of place in a middle-school girl’s locker room.   

 

His gaze whips to me and I see all of the color drain from his face as our eyes lock and recognition sets in.  “Hello, Katniss.”

 

His voice is exactly the same – warm and smooth as honey with the hint of a sexy rasp – and still has the ability to make me weak in the knees.   My heart begins to beat at a rapid tempo as my eyes take in how he’s changed in the last five years. 

 

Gone is the lanky boy with the wavy golden hair and laughing blue eyes.  In his place stands a man, chiseled to perfection like Michelangelo’s David come to life.  His eyes are still impossibly brilliant blue but they lack the impish spark that always made him look on the brink of mischief.  His full lips are set in a firm line over his defined chin that holds the faintest trace of pale blond stubble.  Broad shoulders taper to a lean waist and well defined abs.  There’s a sprinkling of the same pale gold hairs across his ridiculously defined chest, with a thin line below his navel leading to the part of him that I still remember moving inside of me as if it were yesterday.  The promise he’d shown as a boy of 18 was more than fulfilled by the man of 23 standing in front of me now.

 

“Hey Peeta.”  I finally manage to choke out of my mouth, which has suddenly gone very, very dry.

 

As Madge goes on to tell the others, including several eavesdropping tables around ours, about how Peeta and I dated all throughout high school, only to break up the day after our senior Prom, Peeta and I are locked in a staring contest, each refusing to be the one who looks away first.

 

I see the same hurt in his eyes that was there the morning I broke his heart.  I remind myself that I did it to set him free, so he wouldn’t feel tied down to our small town when he had such a bright future ahead of him; but seeing him now makes me wonder if I made a huge mistake all those years ago. 

 

“Hey, didn’t you two punch each other’s v-cards that night after Prom?”  I’m sure it’s just a coincidence, but it seems like Madge chose the moment the restaurant went completely quiet to ask this question in her loud, drunken voice.  I glare daggers at her as I hear the shuffle of bodies as they pivot our way, rubbernecking like they’re hoping to see blood, and feel multiple sets of eyes boring into my skull, waiting for the next scene in this farce known as my life. 

 

My gaze flits across the faces, both friend and stranger, staring at me with a mix of curiosity, jealousy, and disbelief that I’d let him go, until it settles on Peeta once again.  His sapphire eyes are blazing with heat and I feel an answering wave of desire roll through me, settling in my lower belly and causing my breath to catch in my throat.  Suddenly the intensity of the moment is too much and my flight instinct comes barreling to the forefront.

 

“I…I don’t…excuse me.”  I can’t even think straight with all of the feelings rushing through my body at once.  I jump up from the table, knocking my chair over in my haste to get away and flee towards the bar where the rest rooms are located.  I think someone yells for me to come backbut the voice doesn’t register as I practically run into the ladies room and slam the door, collapsing against it as tears threaten to spill from my eyes.

 

Fortunately, the rest rooms are individual so I don’t have to worry about anyone coming in and seeing me fall apart.  I have never been so mortified, or so turned on in my life; I know I can’t go back out there and face anyone, let alone Peeta. 

 

I’m trying to remember if I saw a back entrance or emergency exit (which I’m pretty sure this qualifies as) when there’s a soft knock on the door.

 

 _‘Just fucking great’_  “Occupied,” I mumble, hoping whoever it is will take the hint and leave me in my misery.

 

“Katniss, it’s me.”  My pulse throbs at the sound of Peeta’s voice and I feel more wetness seep into my already soaked panties.  “Can we talk for a minute…please?”  It’s the pause before the ‘please’ that gets me and before I know what’s happening my traitorous hands unlock and open the door. 

 

We stand there staring at each other for several heartbeats, unsure of how to proceed now that we’re alone.  He must see something in my eyes that answers whatever question he had as he reaches up to cradle my face, pulling me towards him and into the kiss I didn’t realize I’d been craving all this time. 

 

The moment his lips touch mine I feel a bolt of electricity that makes my toes curl and every nerve ending in my body comes alive with liquid fire.   I reach up to run my fingers through those teasing curls, but Peeta stops me with his hands on my wrists.

 

“You can’t touch the servers.” He murmurs against my mouth before nipping at my bottom lip.

 

“Even in here?”  I ask him breathlessly.

 

“Especially in here.”  He claims my lips again, and this time our tongues join the battle, reveling in the memories of the last time they were together. 

 

Suddenly, Peeta spins us around and up against the door to close it, and I feel his hand fumble with the lock, saving us from outside interruption.  I can feel every inch of him pressed up against me and another wave of desire rockets through me as I recognize his hard length pushing into the soft skin of my stomach.

 

“I want to touch you, Peeta,  I gasp as his lips blaze a trail across my jaw to the sensitive spot behind my ear. 

 

“Sorry.” _Kiss_ “It’s against.” _Kiss_ “The rules.”  He punctuates his words with soft kisses as he works his way to the valley of my collarbone.

 

I can’t stop the frustrated grunt that comes out at his words, nor the pout of my lips.  He pulls away with a smile that holds the promise of more delights to come.  “I have an idea.” 

 

He spins us again, this time backing me up until I hit the low counter.  He lifts me up so that I’m sitting on the edge, with my legs dangling on either side of his.  Slowly, he pulls on the sunset orange ribbon that’s holding my braid and unweaves the plaited locks, shaking them out to lie across my shoulders. 

 

Peeta gives me a devious smile as he then uses the ribbon to bind my wrists together, tight enough that I can’t slip them out but loose enough that it doesn’t hurt.  Then he lifts my hands up over my head and hooks the ribbon over a decorative light fixture above the mirror, effectively locking me in place.

 

Once I’m secure, Peeta steps back to admire his handiwork.  His lascivious gaze wanders from where my hair cascades around me in chocolate waves, to my lips, which are parted in anticipation, and further down my heated body.  He lingers on the swell of my breasts, which are currently pushed up and out towards him in offering as my back arches from the way my arms are secured.  Lastly, his eyes skim the hem of my short skirt as it rides up my thighs and my legs that hang open in silent invitation. 

 

I am a panting mess of nerves by the time he swings his eyes back up to my face and I know the lust I see in them is mirrored in my own.  I watch, spellbound, as his pink tongue glides across his full bottom lip, leaving a trail of moisture not unlike what is happening in my panties right now. 

 

“Oh Katniss.” He breathes as he reaches forward to stroke the side of my face.  “You have no idea how long I’ve dreamed about seeing you again.  You’re all I’ve thought about for the last five years.”

 

I lean into his hand with a sigh, giving over completely to the passion quickly building between us.  “Not a day goes by that I don’t miss you; that I don’t miss this,” I tell him honestly. 

 

No further words are needed as Peeta gives an almost feral growl and claims my mouth yet again.  His large hands roam my body freely as they reacquaint themselves with my landscape, then bury themselves in my hair to pull my head back as his lips begin a journey down the column of my neck.  Strangled cries escape my throat as I try to keep from screaming in joy. 

 

Peeta senses that I’m holding back and pauses in his ministrations.  “The bathrooms are soundproof.  It’s not that management encourages this type of behavior, but it’s not exactly _dis_ couraged either.   You don’t have to hold it in, love.” 

 

At the endearment falling so easily from his lips, my body goes into overdrive, wanting, no NEEDING to feel him.  Of their own accord my legs wrap themselves around his hips, pulling him even closer.  We both groan when his hard cock comes into contact with the heat of my arousal and I can’t help bucking my hips into his again.  We both sigh in pleasure at the delicious pressure but know it won’t be enough.  Not after waiting so long to be together again. 

 

Without warning Peeta drops to his knees in front of me and looks at me with pleading blue eyes, “Please, Katniss.  I need to taste you.”

 

“Yes.”  It comes out as a moan and I feel my walls flutter in anticipation.  We’d only tried oral sex a few times when we dated, but if memory serves it was something we both enjoyed immensely.  

 

A look of pure joy washes across Peeta’s face as he slowly trails his hands up my thighs and under my skirt to the waistband of my panties.  With a gentle tug, he wordlessly asks me to shift my weight so he can slide the soaking scrap of silk off of me.  Once they’re gone, he places my legs over his shoulders and gently folds the hem of my skirt until I can easily see the glistening sheen of my arousal coating the insides of my thighs.

 

Keeping his eyes locked with mine, Peeta leans forward and slowly runs the flat of his tongue along my folds in one luscious sweep.  A noise I can only describe as a strangled hiss escapes my throat, earning a deep chuckle in response. 

 

“I take it you like that,” he comments, stating the obvious.

 

“Ungh.”  I can’t even form words right now, only sounds. 

 

With another chuckle, Peeta leans forward again, this time using the tip of his tongue to tease my clit.  I feel his thick finger enter me and start sliding in and out at a maddeningly slow pace.  Another finger joins the fun as he begins to draw slow circles around my hidden pearl and the sensitive skin surrounding it. 

 

It’s the most exquisite kind of torture, wanting so badly to run my fingers through the soft wavy hair that’s tickling the inside of my thighs and not being able to because my hands are bound.  Being completely at Peeta’s mercy fuels my desire, and I know it won’t take long for me to come.  

 

Peeta’s free hand snakes under my tank top and pushes aside the cup of my bra to squeeze my hardened nipple.  He rolls it between his thumb and forefinger roughly, adding an element of pleasurable pain that pushes me closer to the precipice.   I lock my ankles and use them to pull myself closer to his face and thrusting fingers, desperate for more friction where I need it most.

 

The indecipherable sounds that have been pouring from me turn to high pitched keens when Peeta’s hot mouth latches onto my clit and he sucks hard.  Between the pressure of his lips wrapped around my most sensitive bud, the feel of his thick fingers steadily fucking me and the not so delicate tugs on my nipple, my orgasm washes over me within moments, making me scream his name to the ceiling.    

 

“Peeta!  Oh fuck. Fuck. Fuck. Fuck.”  My hoarse cries reverberate around the tiny bathroom, and I send a silent prayer of thanks for the soundproofing. 

 

My head falls back against the mirror as I lose all control over my muscles.  If I weren’t attached to the light fixture, I would certainly fall off the counter in my boneless state.   I feel weightless, but despite just coming harder than I have in years, I also feel unsatisfied.  Obviously my body is not done with Peeta Mellark. 

 

Peeta continues to lap at my folds, as if he senses I’m not done, making me shake and building the heat within me back up to the boiling point. 

 

“Peeta!”  My voice jumps three octaves on the second syllable of his name as he removes his mouth only to slide his fingers inside me once again.  This time, though, he turns is wrist upward and curls his fingers to firmly press on the spongy spot that makes me come again within minutes. 

 

In my bound and boneless state, I can only watch as Peeta stands and wipes the back of his hand across his mouth. 

 

“You still taste sweeter than sugar.”  If I weren’t already flushed from my repeated orgasms I would have blushed at his words.  As it is I can barely manage to grunt a response.

 

By now I’ve lost feeling in my hands and my shoulders were starting to ache from the way my arms were thrust up behind me.   Peeta senses my discomfort and reaches up to unhook my hands from the light fixture.  He leaves my bound hands lying in my lap and makes no move to loosen the ribbon, which is tied in a way that makes it impossible for me to untie.

 

“Did you mean what you said before?”  Suddenly all of his earlier bravado is gone.  The look he gives me is cautiously hopeful, and there’s a vulnerability in his voice that tugs at my heart.  “About missing me?”

 

I’m almost overwhelmed with the need to take him in my arms and show him just how much I’ve missed him these last five years.  “God, yes.” 

 

At my admission, Peeta’s lips find mine again in a kiss full of longing and promises.  His hands settle on my hips and he pulls me forward until our centers meet.  I can feel the hard ridge of his cock pressing desperately into the wetness between my folds.   I can’t stop myself from rubbing against him, nearly frantic with the need to find my release yet again.

 

My bound hands clutch his tank top, trying to pull him as close as possible.  I feel him try to bat them aside and I pull away in frustration.

 

“This no touching thing is really pissing me off.  I want to feel you, Peeta.  Please!”  I know I sound like a petulant child but I just don’t give a damn about the rules anymore.

 

“You won’t be able to come back here if I let you do that.”  His voice is serious but the teasing glint in his eyes lets me know he’s playing with me now.

 

“Odds are pretty good I wouldn’t have come back anyway, so I don’t give a fuck.  Untie me.  NOW.” I demand, ready to gnaw the damn thing off with my teeth if I have to.  

 

“Yes, ma’am.” He winks at me before untying the ribbon and unraveling it from around my wrists.  There are red marks I’m going to have to explain when I go back to the table but I can’t find it in me to care right now.

 

As soon as my hands are free I plunge them into his curls and drag my nails along his scalp, earning me a grateful moan, as I pull him down for another passionate kiss.  His hips begin thrusting slowly into mine, creating a delicious friction that spirals out from deep inside my body.  Suddenly, it’s not enough anymore.

 

“Peeta, I want you inside me.  Please!”  My body is wound tighter than a spring and I am not above begging at this point. 

 

“As you wish,” he whispers as he reaches behind me.  I turn to see what he’s doing and see him pulling a condom out of a dispenser on the side of the mirror.  “Like I said, it’s not discouraged,” he says with a smirk.

 

I watch in rapt fascination as he peels off his boxer briefs, freeing his straining erection, and rolls the thin latex down his shaft.   He’s bigger than I remember and my pulse quickens in anticipation at the sight.

 

All concerns leave my mind as soon as he takes his cock in his hand and begins to rub the head between my folds, coating his length in my wetness.  _THIS_ is what I’ve been waiting for.  _THIS_ is what I need from him right now and I lean back against the mirror, opening myself up to him further. 

 

Peeta leans forward and captures my lips with his as he enters me with one hard thrust.  We swallow each other’s sighs as our bodies meet, and take a moment to revel in the feeling. 

 

“Katniss, I need to move.”  Peeta gasps, sounding as if he’s in agony, which I imagine he probably is from trying to hold back.

 

I kiss along his jaw to his ear and whisper, “go ahead,” before grabbing the lobe between my teeth and tugging. 

 

Peeta moans as he grabs my ass and tilts my hips up before pulling back and thrusting again, this time hitting that spongy spot deep inside that I could never reach with my vibrator when I’d fantasize about him in my lonely bed.

 

“Oh fuck, Peeta!  Do that again!”  I wail as I wrap my legs around his back and dig my nails into his shoulders.

 

Peeta continues the slow torture, both of us trying to prolong the inevitable as long as we can.  A light sheen of sweat has broken out on his body, making his golden skin shimmer in the soft light of the room.  Our soft grunts and moans are the only sounds as we concentrate on the feelings we’re evoking in one another.

 

Peeta turns slightly and leans me farther back along the counter while pulling my right leg up higher against his side.  This new angle allows him to free one hand to roam my body, taking his time to caress my breasts before trailing downward to rub lazy circles around my clit with his thumb. 

 

“Christ, Katniss.  I’ve never forgotten how fucking amazing you feel.”  Peeta’s words are all I need to push me over the edge yet again and I come with a hoarse shout.  My walls contract tightly around Peeta’s cock, driving him headlong into his own release with a loud moan.

 

Peeta collapses onto his elbows, taking care to keep his weight from crushing me.  We remain in this position, breathless and still connected, until he begins to soften inside me.  I feel his hand reach between us to hold the condom as he pulls out and discards it in the trash. 

 

As we go about cleaning up, I can’t help but wonder what will happen once we leave this room.  Will he want to see me again?  Do I want to see _him_ again?  And most of all, how am I going to explain my long absence from the table?  The only thing I know for sure is that this small taste has whetted my appetite for more.  I have a feeling this is only the beginning and that I’ll never stop craving Peeta.  Hopefully the feeling is mutual, but only time will tell.

 

_To be continued……_

 

 

 

 

 


	2. Chapter 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Five years earlier, in which we find out what lead to Katniss and Peeta’s long separation….

 

 

My hand trembles as I scan the letter, making it almost impossible to read the bold black typeface bouncing off of the crisp white paper.

_Dear Ms. Everdeen_ ….blah blah blah… _Thank you for your interest_ …yadda yadda yadda… _several long months of applications and interviews._

“Christ, get to the fraking point already,” I semi-curse at the long-winded author.

_After an exhaustive search, you have been chosen to represent District 12 in the Tyson-Nye Environmental Research Foundation’s summer advanced internship program._

“No freaking way,” I whisper as my eyes scan the document again, making sure it’s not a joke.  The trembling in my fingers intensifies as my pulse races with barely controlled excitement.

“Holy shit, you got it!” Prim’s sudden burst startles me and I jump, almost ripping the pristine page gripped tightly in my hands.

“First of all, language!  Secondly, stalk much, Prim?” Sweat beads along my hairline, both from the incredible news contained in the letter and from Prim’s silent sneak attack.  I make a mental note to add bells to her clothing to avoid such surprises in the future.

“Who are you, Captain America?” she scoffs as she plops down next to me on the bed and tugs the letter from my frozen fingers, “Besides, I already know Peeta and that silver tongue of his can make you swear like a pirate….”

Heat engulfs my cheeks as I recall the day she came home earlier than anticipated and walked in on Peeta and I engaged in NSFW activities.  It took months for me to be able to look her in the eye, and she likes to bring it up as a way to unsettle me, or get me to do her chores. 

“That is none of your business,” I huff as I try to snatch the letter back from her.

“Mmhmm, that’s what I thought,”  she smirks as she rolls out of my reach and skims the letter.

“Congratulations, Kitty Kat!  I knew they’d choose you.  Those egg-head geniuses would have to be completely stupid not to see how freaking awesome you are.”

I can’t help the sense of pride that fills my chest at her words.  She knows how hard I worked for this internship, and what it means for the future; for our family’s future.  The Tyson-Nye foundation was started years ago by two of the most forward thinking scientists as a way to look for ways to help combat the effects of various environmental issues, such as global warming, over-harvesting, declining bee population -  you name it.  They only accept one freshman from each District for their summer internship program, making it incredibly prestigious and highly sought after.  Not to mention having that little nugget on your resume basically guarantees you a job pretty much anywhere in the country after finishing school.

The fact that _I_ was chosen to represent District 12 is nothing short of miraculous.

“Thanks, Little Duck.”

“Wait, hold the phone,” Prim bolts upright on the bed, peering closely at the fine print at bottom of the letter, “This says you have to be in District 7 by June 28th.  That’s the Monday after Graduation.”

“Yeah, it’s a summer intensive program that that will run right up until my classes begin at Panem State in the fall.”  I cringe, knowing what’s inevitably coming next.

I am not disappointed in her reaction.  “You knew you might be gone for the entire summer, our last summer together before you become a big-time college student, and you never mentioned it?”  The accusation in her voice stings, mostly because she’s right.

Sighing, I take the letter from her hands and fold it neatly.  “ _This_ is why I didn’t say anything.  There was no guarantee I’d be chosen, so why stir the pot?”

She looks at me, eyes narrowed, “What about Peeta?  Does he know?”

My desk suddenly becomes very interesting and I start swiping away non-existent dust bunnies as I fervently wish she would go away.

“Katniss. Marie. Everdeen.” Prim advances on me with a somewhat deadly look on her face, “Do you mean to tell me that not only did you neglect to inform your favorite sister –“

“You’re my only sister,” I try to interrupt but she continues as if I haven’t spoken.

“Your FAVORITE sister, you didn’t bother to mention it to your boyfriend?  Your boyfriend of THREE years who thinks the sun rises and sets on your ass, who I am almost positive is the only other person on the planet besides me that doesn’t mind the fact that you’re as prickly as a hedgehog?”  Prim’s bright blue eyes flash with incredulity as she stands before me, hands on hips like an avenging angel.  “What were you thinking?”

I stand frozen, looking all around the room to avoid her penetrating gaze.  She watches me stammer, my fingers automatically searching out the tip of my braid in an old nervous habit that’s never quite gone away. 

“Um, well….I…uh….That is, I was going to…”

“Going to what?” she demands.

My shoulders slump in defeat.  “Do you remember what happened last fall when Peeta and I were accepted to different colleges?”

I can see her mind working, trying to remember the day when things began to unravel in my life.  Our acceptance letters came, mine from Panem State College here in District 12, and Peeta’s from Capitol University, a full day’s train ride away in the glittering Capitol.

Peeta had been nauseatingly optimistic as usual, telling me that we’ve been together for so long that the distance meant nothing, especially with Skype and FaceTime.  He almost convinced me that it wasn’t a problem, that we could overcome the obstacle as long as we had each other.  Then he went on to say that if anyone should be worried it was him because I was sure to meet someone else, someone who was better looking, funnier, and didn’t have a bitch of a mother.  It was done in an off-hand manner, meant to be a joke, but I could tell a small part of him was serious, that he didn’t think he was good enough to keep my attention if we weren’t together.  I laughed it off, telling him he was being ridiculous and that everyone knows I’m the consolation prize in our relationship, but he just looked at me with wistful eyes and said, “You still don’t get it do you - the effect you can have on everyone around you?”

For days afterward all I could think about were his words, and how it was more likely _he_ would find someone else and lose interest in me.  After all, he was the one heading off to Capitol University, full of the best and brightest with every available opportunity just waiting for him to take, whereas I was staying home and commuting to the local community college, hoping I would be able to find a job after graduation.  Not that I was jealous; I knew from the beginning he had so much to offer the world and I’d be foolish to think any of that would include me.  His reaction only served to show just what he’d be giving up if he stayed connected to District 12 and by extension to me.  

About a week later I had managed to work myself into such a state of panic that in the middle of dinner I got up and ran into the woods beyond the meadow a little ways down the street from our house.  Prim eventually found me sitting in an old gnarled oak tree, crying and shaking as if the world was ending.  I confessed everything to her, from Peeta’s comment to my reaction, to the realization that the best thing I could do was to end things with him before we left for college.  That way he could be free to have the life he was destined for without me being an albatross around his neck.  She talked me down, both literally and figuratively, and told me I was being stupid, that Peeta loved me no matter what and that he’d be crushed if I broke things off for no good reason.  I tried to argue that me being a worthless Seam-rat that would never amount to anything qualified as a good reason, but she just shook her head and told me to ‘get over myself’.  The next day I acted as if nothing had happened, and Prim didn’t say another word about it.

I grimace as realization dawns across Prim’s pale face.  “Oh. My. GOD.  You’re going to do it, aren’t you?  You’re going to break up with Peeta.”

My brain screams _‘NO!  That’s crazy!’_ but all I can do is look away, neither confirming nor denying her statement.  Ignoring her I sit at my desk and open up my laptop to start on my homework.  As I type I can feel her eyes watching me, trying to understand and coming up blank.  It’s fine; I don’t expect her to understand, since I really don’t myself.  All I know is that my gut tells me Peeta will be better off if he goes to C.U. without the burden of a loser girlfriend tying him to this Podunk-town.

“Is this about Mom?” Prim’s soft voice floats from behind me, “You’re afraid of ending up like her, so you’re pushing away the best thing in your life.”

“Prim,” I turn to her, annoyed that she’s hit the nail on the head so easily, “the only concerns in my life right now are keeping a roof over our heads and making sure you are taken care of.  Everything else is a distraction.”

“Bullshit, Katniss.  I’m 14 years old, and more than capable of taking care of myself.  And as for Mom, she’s been fine for years now, plus her new position at the hospital pays well so we are just fine.   Stop lying to yourself and tell me why you’re doing this,” she comes behind my chair and wraps her arms around my shoulders, “He loves you so much, and I know you love him, too, despite the fact that you never say it.”

She’s right.  I know she’s right, but it doesn’t matter.  Love doesn’t solve problems, it only creates them, especially when the one you love is gone, and you’re left a bitter, empty shell that can’t function properly.  We saw it with our mother when our father passed away.  She retreated into her mind, not caring if her daughters were fed, or if the bills were paid.  If it weren’t for our father’s old Army buddy, Haymitch Abernathy, who knows what would have happened.  Only his intervention kept a roof over our heads, Prim and I out of the community home, and our mother out of the psycho ward at the hospital, but the damage had already been done.  No, love wasn’t worth the pain, no matter what.

“I have to, Prim,” I whisper, almost afraid to say the words out-loud, “Don’t you see?  There’s no hope for me, I’m a total mess.  But Peeta, he can do whatever he wants, become whatever he wants as long as he gets away from District 12 and his mother.  He’ll never have a chance if he feels obligated to stay because I’m here.  I can’t do that to him.  He’d only come to resent me, or he’d leave, and either way I end up alone.  Better to end things now while there’s still a chance for him.”

Prim studies my face, searching for an answer to a question known only to her.  She must find whatever she’s looking for as she nods and sighs.  “Ok.  I still don’t understand, but if this is your decision then I’m not going to interfere.  I just want to go on record now as saying it’s a terrible idea that you will regret almost immediately, and I can’t guarantee I won’t say ‘I told you so’ in the future.”

I pull her into a hug, “I wouldn’t expect anything less.  I love you, Little Duck.”

“And I love you, Kitty Kat,” she says as she squeezes me tight.

Neither of us are in a hurry to let go, savoring this moment knowing that I’ll be leaving in a few short weeks.

The ding of an incoming Skype breaks us apart finally and I panic seeing it’s from Peeta.

“Speak of the devil…”

“Prim!” I shush her, “Please don’t say anything.”

“I won’t, pinky-swear promise,” she holds out her hand to me, and I wrap my pinkie around hers, giving it a shake to cement our agreement.

Turning back to my desk, I click on the alert and immediately the screen fills with Peeta’s smiling face.

“What’s happening, hot stuff?” His wags his eyebrows suggestively, and I just can’t keep from grinning.

“ _Sixteen Candles_ on again?” I ask, knowing full well what the answer will be.

Peeta shrugs and his lips tilt up in the sexy little half-smile, half-smirk I’ve come to adore.  “What can I say?  The Donger and I connect on a spiritual level.”

Laughing, I lean back in my chair, “You are such a complete dork, Peeta.”

He leans closer to the camera and winks, “Yeah, but I’m your dork.”

My heart stutters as the words ‘not for much longer’ flash across my brain.

“So, what’s up?”  I ask before I do something stupid, like start crying.

Peeta looks around the room, probably to make sure one of his brothers isn’t listening in, before licking his lips.  “Well, I was sitting here, all alone in my room, and I got to thinking.  And what I was thinking about was you, and me, and the rehearsal room.”

Panic sets in as I realize just exactly what he’s talking about, “Uh, Peeta…”

“God, Katniss,” he continues, clearly lost in the memory, “I can’t get it out of my mind.  I can still taste…”

“Hey, Peeta!”  Prim interrupts, waving so Peeta sees her on the bed.

Flaming red flares across his cheeks, all the way to the tips of his ears as he clears his throat.  “Oh, ah, hey, Prim.  Didn’t…ah…see you there.”

I pray for a hole to open up beneath my chair and save me from this embarrassment, but the odds are not in my favor.

“Taste what, Peeta?” she asks, the epitome of innocence.

His eyes widen into shocked blue pools and his mouth gapes like a fish as he nervously runs his hand along the back of his neck.  He looks to me, but I’m frozen, praying for the torture to end.

 “Um…milkshakes,” he answers, “Katniss and I shared the most amazing milkshake today.”

“Milkshakes, huh?  So that’s what the kids are calling it these days now that ‘Netflix and chill’ has been decoded?” Prim jokes, and I start coughing.  The absurdity of this entire situation is more than I can stomach right now.

“So, anyway, Peeta,” I start, in an attempt to regain some kind of control, “the milkshake was….very good…but….”

“I’ll bet,” I hear Prim snort behind me.

“ _But_ I have a ton of homework to do tonight, so…”

Peeta gets the hint, looking eager to escape himself, “I’ll let you go.  But first I have a question – what color is your dress for Prom?  You won’t let me see it and I need to know so I can coordinate my tux.”

  1.   Damn, I forgot all about that stupid dance.  I only agreed to go after both Peeta and Prim begged, saying it was our final rite of passage as High School students since it was the night before graduation, and most likely the last time we’d see any of our friends.  Prim had dragged me all over the mall looking at hundreds of dresses, but we ended up at the thrift shop after I nearly had a heart attack over the prices.  We managed to find a perfectly lovely vintage dress that was elegant, yet comfortable, and not too revealing.  It was Prim’s idea to not show Peeta, ‘to preserve the mystery’.   She even talked me into buying fancy undergarments at a lingerie shop, which embarrassed me to no end, especially when she whispered _‘Peeta will appreciate these’_ as I paid the cashier.



Colors not being my forte, I mumble, “I don’t know, red?”

“Don’t listen to her.  It’s a knee-length fitted a-line with off the shoulder cap sleeves, in blood orange duchess satin.” Prim interjects with an air of authority from where she’s laying on my bed.

“Seriously, Prim?  Do you even hear how pretentious you sound right now?”  I glance at her over my shoulder then back at Peeta, whose brow is furrowed in concentration.

“Blood orange.  Thanks, Prim!” he shouts to her.  I should have known the artist in him would latch onto that.

“Ok, listen Tim & Heidi, I need to do my homework so can we please clean out your workspace and go away?”  Honestly, I really just need them both to leave me alone right now so I can process everything.

“Fine, love you Kitty Kat,” Prim kisses me on top of my head and leans closer to the webcam on my lap top, “And Peeta, you keep on enjoying those milkshakes.”

The door clicks closed behind her as she goes, and I shake my head with a sigh.

“Wow, are you sure she’s only 14?” Peeta chuckles from the screen.

“14 going on 30, apparently,” I agree.

“I miss you, Katniss,” his finger strokes the screen, and I know he’s running it along my computerized image.   “I can’t wait until school’s over and we have the whole summer together.”

He looks so earnest, so in love, that it’s all I can do not to cry.  Guilt settles on my chest, like an anvil pressing down against my heart.

“Listen,” I tell him, “I have to go.  But I’ll see you tomorrow.”

Peeta blesses me with another one of his beautiful smiles.  “I love you, you scruffy-looking Nerf herder.”

I chuckle, for a moment forgetting that I have to break this kind boy’s heart, “I know, Princess.”

xXx

Two weeks pass by and before I even have a moment to breathe, it’s the morning of Prom.  My last final was yesterday and I had high hopes of being able to enjoy a well-deserved sleep-in, but clearly Prim has other ideas.  She and friends Octavia, Venia and Flavius, my self-appointed ‘prep team’, basically drag me from my bed at what feels like the crack of dawn, and begins their multi-pronged assault on my person.  

I submit to having my “kahlo-esque” eyebrows tweezed, only threatening to bring out my bow and arrow when they come at me with the hot wax.   Some lines are just not meant to be crossed, no matter how silky smooth my skin would supposedly be afterwards.

Several hours, and much grumbling on my part later, I have been reduced to what the quartet refers to as ‘beauty base zero’.  My hair is a shining chestnut wave down my back just waiting to be swept into some sort of up-do that Prim discovered on YouTube; my skin is buffed smooth and ready for the final make-up application later this evening.  Even my nails have been cleaned, trimmed and painted – pale olive on my fingers, and a deeper tone on my toes – in, I have been assured, shades complementary to the blood orange of my dress.

As much as it pains me to admit, it feels nice to be pampered, even if it’s just by my sister and her friends, and I find myself relaxing for the first time in ages.  I honestly can’t remember the last time I didn’t have some kind of stress weighing me down, whether it was taking care of Prim after our mother checked out, getting creative with money to keep the bills up to date, or working hard in school to get good grades so I could get scholarships and try to make a better life for the three of us.  

“So,” Prim says as she flops down next to me on the couch after the others leave to make a lunch run to Panera, “Have you told Peeta about the internship yet?”

Instantly, any relaxed feelings I have disappear, and a headache begins to throb behind my left eye.  Prim and my mother are the only ones who know I’m leaving in two days.  I haven’t said a word to anyone else, not to Madge, not to my best friend Gale, and most certainly not to Peeta.

“There hasn’t been right time,” I hedge, hoping she’ll let it drop even though I know she won’t.

Prim shakes her head, “I know you hate confrontation, Katniss, but you really need to tell him.  If you still plan to end things, at least do it to his face.  He’s deserves to know your reasons, even if they’re completely messed up.”

Rationally, I know she’s right.  Peeta and I have been together for three years now, a fact I still find astounding given my tendency to alienate most of the people around me.  Irrationally, though, I never understood what attracted him to me.  I mean, I’m not very big, or particularly pretty.  He was the one known for being affable and nice, while I am standoffish and rude at best.  But, somehow he managed to get around my defenses, and before I knew what was happening, Peeta Mellark had buried himself deep in my heart.

“I know, Prim,” I concede, “I will tell him.  There just hasn’t been a right time with exams and everything.”

Her icy blue glare pins me to the corner of the couch like the frog I had to dissect in Bio years ago.  I know she’s judging me, and that I’m coming up seriously lacking, but I refuse let her see how afraid I am.

She sighs heartily, “Katniss, my love, one of these days you’re going to find yourself all alone with just your stubborn pride to keep you company.  And probably about 40 cats that will eat your face off when you die.”

\-----

Later that evening, Prim zips me into my dress while Octavia puts the finishing touches on my make-up.  She uses so many brushes, wands and tubes I’m almost afraid to look in the mirror, but when I do I can’t believe it’s me.  Gone are the long braid, plain face, and tom-boyish clothing.  In their place stands someone else completely.  She is not pretty, she is not beautiful.  She is as radiant as the sun.

It’s nearly impossible to tear my gaze away from the reflection.  I’ve never been vain, but right now I am completely in awe.  Prim and the rest of the ‘prep team’ have managed to pull off something I never thought possible – they made me attractive, feminine and approachable.  My hair is still in a braid, but instead of hanging down my back it is wrapped around my head with tendrils curling softly down my neck; a subtle smoky cat’s eye makes the grey of my eyes pop, while a faint peachy blush compliments my olive skin, bringing out cheekbones I never realized I possessed.  The dress fits perfectly, baring my shoulders for a hint of seduction, fitted to emphasize the indent of my waist before flaring out to skim my knees.  The silky fabric swishes against my thighs as I twist back and forth, mesmerized as it shimmers in the light.  Small gold hoops, on loan from Madge, with what I’m sure are real diamond chips adorn my ears, giving just a small amount of sparkle, while the pearl necklace Peeta gave me for my birthday rests in the hollow at the base of my throat.  Strappy kitten heels, courtesy of Venia, complete the look.

The biggest change, however, is the smile gracing my red-stained lips.  It’s a smile I haven’t seen in a long time, not since I was a little girl – one of hope and excitement.

“You look beautiful, Katniss,” my mother’s soft voice pulls me from my introspection as she joins me at the mirror, wrapping her arm around my shoulders.  “Your father would be so proud of you.”

Mention of my father brings tears to my eyes, and I quickly blink them away, unwilling to test the waterproofness of my mascara right now.  “Thanks, mom,” I whisper tremulously.

“Come with me.  I have something for you.” She turns, and takes my hand, leading me into her bedroom.   

Crossing to her bureau, she takes a small bottle out of her jewelry box.  The crystal edges catch the light from the lamp overhead, casting rainbows against the wall.  The bottle is almost empty, just a drop of golden liquid remains in the bottom.

I know immediately what it is – her favorite perfume, the last gift my father gave her before the accident that claimed his life.

“No, mom, I can’t use that.  It’s your favorite.”  I try to protest, but she shakes her head.

“Katniss, honey, I insist,” she says as she pushes it into my hand.  “I have no need for it anymore, and it would be a shame to let it go to waste.”

As much as I want to refuse, I can’t.  Things have been so much better between us and with me leaving in a couple of days I don’t want to jeopardize that.

“Thanks, mom.”

I pull out the stopper and am immediately transported back in time by the familiar scent.  As far back as I can remember my mother wore this perfume when she and my father would go out.  It was ‘for special’ she’d always say, and the look on my father’s face when he would come up and wrap his arms around her from behind and inhale deeply made me blush.  If I recall correctly, those nights used to end with music and laughter wafting from their bedroom window, along with other sounds I didn’t understand until much, much later.

“Listen, Katniss,” she gently guides me to the bed and we sit, “I know it’s a little late for me to start giving you lectures, but I would be remiss if I didn’t at least try.”

With an opening like that I know exactly where this is going. “Uh, mom, it’s ok…” I attempt to cut her off, knowing my cheeks are crimson and that there’s a very good possibility I may perish from embarrassment.

“Katniss, listen.  You’re 18, it’s Prom, and you’ve been with Peeta for a long time now.  It’s only natural that things may progress….”

A loud knock at the front door ends the conversation, as do completely unnecessary squeals from Prim and her friends.

“Don’t come down yet!”  She calls up the stairs as she runs to answer the door.  Prim has it in her head that it won’t be the perfect Prom if I don’t have my ‘entrance’.  If she had her way it would happen in slow motion with _Take My Breath Away_ playing in the back-ground.

My mother sighs as she stands, patting me on the shoulder.  “Whatever you decide, just be sure it’s what you really want deep in your heart, and not what you _think_ you should want.  Some decisions are more permanent than others.”

She leaves me in her room and I have a feeling it wasn’t teenage virgin sex she was referring to just then.

 -----

When Prim deems it appropriate, I am finally allowed to come downstairs.  As I do, my eyes are focused 100% on Peeta – how handsome he looks with his normally unruly waves gelled into submission, and a huge smile on his face as he watches me descend.  His black tux fits snugly in all the right places, especially his firm backside.  The matching tie and waistcoat give a surprising pop of color – orange from a distance, but upon closer examination really a plaid made up of varying shades of the sunset.  

He meets me at the bottom of the stairs with a beautiful corsage made from deep orangey-red Gerber daisies with tiny dandelions as accent instead of baby’s breath, held together by a dark green ribbon.  Sliding it onto my wrist, he leans in and kisses my cheek.

“You’re gorgeous, Katniss,” he says with the same worshipful look that my father always had when he would look at my mother, and my stomach fills with knots.   

“What are you thinking?” I ask as he stands before me again, the others in the room forgotten as I get lost in those blue depths.

“Just that I wish I could freeze this moment, right here, right now, and live in it forever.”

The emotion and sheer awe in his voice takes my breath away, and the guilt I’ve been trying to keep at bay threatens to overwhelm me.  I swallow it down, determined not think about my impending departure and the effect it will have on Peeta.  This is our last night together, even if he doesn’t know it, and I will do whatever it takes to keep him happy.  

“Okay,” the word slips out between my lips.

Another stunning smile, “Then you’ll allow it?”

“I’ll allow it.”

\-----

Prom itself flies by in a whirl of brightly colored dresses, somber suits and more hairspray than a Mötley Crüe after-party.  To absolutely no one’s surprise, Cato Miller and Glimmer St. John are named King and Queen, and Marvel Miller is caught trying to spike the punch.  Overall, though, it’s a great last night with people I never really cared to know, and will most likely never see again.

Peeta and I dance to every slow song, our bodies swaying to the music as we share sweet kisses.  His fingers trace patterns in the dip of my lower back, sending trails of heat throughout my body.   My own hands tangle in the curls at his nape, my nails gently scratching his scalp, and I have an insane desire to run both hands through the thick honey mass.  The way I feel right now, breathing in his unique scent of cinnamon, dill and just plain ‘Peeta’, I know I will not be the first to pull away.

He hums along to each song, poorly of course, but the tickle of his warm breath along my neck coupled with the beat of his heart against mine is hypnotic and I feel myself pressing closer.  Desire, hot and liquid, flows through my veins, making me suddenly very grateful for Prim’s insistence on buying the lacy bustier and panty set currently hiding under my dress.

“Hey,” Peeta’s voice wafts across my shoulder, “Are you ready to go?”

“Yeah,” I nod and lean up to kiss him softly.

I don’t feel the least bit guilty about leaving without saying goodbye to Madge, or the few others I considered friends.  I’ll see them tomorrow at Graduation.  Tonight, however, I have a very different agenda in mind.  

Years ago, before Prim and I were born, my father built a small cabin on the bank of his favorite lake.  It’s not much, just one open room with a wood burning stove at one end, and a big bed underneath picture windows overlooking the lake at the other but it’s solid, cozy and warm.  It also has indoor plumbing, which is always a major bonus.

Peeta and I have spent many lazy days at the cabin, fishing, swimming, and exploring – both the surrounding woods, and very recently, each other.  With all that history it seemed fitting to me that we spend our last night together there as well.

The drive takes no time at all, or at least it feels that way as I sit and stress over what needs to be said.  I wasn’t lying when I told Prim I couldn’t find the right moment, but I wasn’t exactly honest, either.  The truth is even though I appear to be strong and unafraid in reality I am scared and weak, especially when it comes to dealing with my feelings.  There is no possible way I can look into Peeta’s big blue eyes and tell him I’m leaving.  He’ll try to talk me into staying, or at least trying the long-distance thing, and since I have zero willpower when it comes to him, I would inevitably agree and eventually he would come to hate and resent me.  There’s just no way I could do that to him.

Pulling into the driveway, I start to panic.  I still don’t know what to do or how to say what needs to be said.  Peeta doesn’t notice my silence as he grabs our bags from the back and comes around to open my door.

“After you, my lady,” he bows with that sexy little smirk that I just cannot resist, and in that moment I decide to let it all go.  All of my concerns, all of the worry and stress are pushed to the side, at least for now.  There are still two days before I leave, there’s no need to ruin what’s so far been a perfect night.      

Peeta uses my key to unlock the door, and holds it open for me to step inside.  Rather than turning on the overhead light, I use my phone to find the candles and matches left from our last visit.  Once they’re lit and set around, the room is cast in a soft romantic glow.

He meets me in the middle of the room, and we continue our dance from earlier, moving to the music softly playing on his iPhone. Slowly his fingers climb up my spine, sending shivers throughout my body.  He stops when he reaches the zipper, playfully flicking at it.

Emboldened by the evidence of his growing desire pressing against my thigh, I give in to my earlier impulse and plunge both hands into his hair, giving the ends the sharp tug that I know he likes.  The answering moan is all the encouragement I need as I stretch up and press my lips to his.

This kiss is filled with passion and promise, intoxicating in its power.  Arousal pools between my legs and I know tonight our usual methods of getting each other off will not be enough.  Tonight I need all of Peeta, and to give all of myself to him.  Especially since this will be our one and only time being together like this.

Impatiently I push him towards the bed, where he falls on his back before scooting up against the headboard.  I’ve never considered myself to be sensual, or even remotely sexual, but as I crawl across the bed to straddle Peeta’s hips, the look on his face makes me feel like a goddess.  Some instinctual urge takes hold, and I rub against the bulge straining against the front of his pants.  We both hiss at the sensation as his hands settle on my hips to hold me in place.  He pushes up against me again as I grind down, enjoying the friction provided by the fabric.

“Let me touch you,” he breathes as he reaches for the zipper of my dress and yanks it down.  Once it loosens enough I pull the garment over my head and toss it to the side to be forgotten in a heap on the floor.

His eyes are almost black in the candlelight, but I can see how they widen when he takes in the lace and satin covering my breasts and ribcage.

“Holy fuck, Katniss,” he drags my name out as his hands cover my skin.  Peeta never curses, except when we’re together like this, and it makes me even more aroused to know _I_ caused him to lose his usual reserve.   My nipples tighten into little buds as his calloused fingers drag over them, and I swivel my hips in approval.

Reaching down I loosen his tie, and slide it out from under the collar then make quick work of the buttons of his waistcoat and shirt.  Peeta sits up to help me remove them then pulls off his undershirt as well.

My hands begin an exploration of his skin, taking in every dip and line of muscle.  I flick his nipples with my thumb, earning me a grunt of pleasure.  “I love it when you do that.”

Another urge comes over me and I take one hardened peak between my lips, nibbling lightly before running my tongue along the tip.  “God, yes,” he encourages me with breathy sighs of approval.

Suddenly, using one of his All-State Wrestler moves, he flips us then trails hot kisses down the column of my throat to the tops of my breasts, sliding the cups down to expose my warm flesh.  He takes his time returning the favor, running his tongue around and over my nipples until I’m squirming for relief beneath him.

“Peeta,” I pant, desperate for more, but unsure how to let him know my intentions, “I…I want you.”

Immediately he stills, and for one horrible moment I think something is wrong, that I’ve misread him and this isn’t what he wants.  I’m about 10 seconds from busting out of the cabin and hiding in the woods when he looks into my eyes with such tenderness, “Are you…are you sure?  I mean, I know it’s Prom night, but you don’t have to….”

His chivalry makes my heart flip flop in my chest.  Again, he proves why he’s so much better than me.

Taking his face in my hands, I lock gazes with him, “Yes, Peeta, I am sure.  I am ready, and I want to do this with you.”

The words are barely out of my mouth before he’s kissing me again, his hands all over my body.  Everywhere he touches erupts in flames of pure desire that lick my skin, making me feel antsy and impatient.

Arching my back I unsnap the clasp of the bustier and toss it onto the floor with the rest of our clothes before repeating the action with my panties then toe off my shoes.  Peeta climbs out of the bed and crosses to his bag, pulling something out of the side pocket.

“I..uh…didn’t plan on… but Rye shoved them in my pocket as I was leaving,” His nervous stutter makes me smile.

“It’s ok,” I tell him.  And it is, because honestly, if she could get away with it, I have no doubt Prim would do the same thing.

I lie back on the bed and wait as Peeta removes his shoes, pants, boxers.  This isn’t the first time I’ve seen him nude, but the sight of his glorious form never fails to make my pulse quicken.  I feel an answering rush of arousal flow through my body.  

He struggles with the little foil square as his hands shake, but finally he manages to get it open.  When he does, I take it from his hand and roll the latex on myself, earning a very heart-felt, “Fuuuuck, that’s hot.”

Peeta leans over me, and my pulse speeds up again, both from nerves over what we’re about to do, and from the way he’s looking at me – as if I’m the most precious thing in the world.  He settles between my thighs, I can feel him against me, long and hard.  My legs fall farther open, causing him to shift and suddenly he’s there, right at my opening.

“Um, I’m just gonna,” he starts, clearly feeling a bit overwhelmed by this moment.

“Go ahead, I’m not afraid.”

I’m not sure if I’m reassuring him, or myself, but either way the point is soon moot as he presses forward slowly.  I can tell he’s holding back, trying to be gentle for my sake, but the initial fullness I feel makes me eager to have the rest of him inside me.  My ankles lock around his waist as I scoot down, drawing him in deeper.  There’s a small pinch of discomfort, but otherwise no pain when he finally pushes all the way in, just a fullness that’s a bit odd, but strangely satisfying.

We lay there, joined, for a few moments as I adjust to his size before he pulls back and pushes forward again.  “Oh my God, Katniss, you feel amazing.”

He kisses me again, and I lose myself in the moment, giving him everything I have, and taking whatever I can.  Peeta’s movements speed up as he pulls my thigh higher, changing the angle so that he hits my most sensitive spot with each thrust.  Delicious pressure builds deep inside of my body, an exquisite feeling that borders on pain until it finally snaps, sending me teetering over the edge into bliss with a shout, “Oh, fuck, Peeta!”

I hold on tight as he races towards his own completion, latching onto his earlobe and running my tongue along the pink shell of his ear.  With the added stimulation it doesn’t take long for Peeta to follow me with a loud satisfied groan of his own.

We lay there, still wrapped together, our heavy breaths the only sound in the room as we come down from our highs.  My bones are like jelly and I am reluctant to move but I know we can’t stay like this all night.   Eventually Peeta rolls off of me and we clean up before pulling on sleep clothes and collapsing back onto the bed.

“That was incredible,” he sighs with a big yawn as we settle into the sheets.  “I love you so much, Katniss.”

Tears I hadn’t realized were threatening to fall slide silently down my cheeks as I lay in his embrace listening for his breathing to even out, signaling he’s asleep.

“I know,” I whisper for the last time into the darkness.

\-----

Two days later I am on the train to District 7, speeding away from everything familiar towards an uncertain future.  I never did find the courage to tell Peeta I was leaving, or even to break up with him.  Instead I ran, just as I always do when things get to be too much.

Prim and my mother both disapprove of my decision, of course, but in the end I just couldn’t do it.  It’s better this way, though.  At least now he knows just how horrible I really am and it’ll make it that much easier to forget about me.

At least, that’s what I tell myself as I turn off my phone, steadfastly ignoring the flood of texts and voicemails from Peeta as the train flies across the tracks.

_to be continued….._

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Special thanks to Chele20035 & Sohypothetically for pre-reading and talking me off the ledge with this story. And to Titania522 for being such an awesome beta.   
> All characters, lines (both directly quoted and paraphrased) belong to Suzanne Collins.   
> Lastly, a huge thank you to Jessa/Miss Honeywell for all of your hard work on PiP over the years. Thanks to you the fandom has an abundance of wonderful art and stories to enjoy!


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